


Funeral

by johnwatso



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Sherlock loves John so terribly much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 07:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18245696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnwatso/pseuds/johnwatso
Summary: In the final hours, he knew. The invisible clock hung over them for months, threatening and looming, but became desperate that evening. He clung to John’s neck and kissed him on every part of his face.





	Funeral

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lenol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenol/gifts).



  1. It’s a Tuesday morning when he dies. Sherlock has always hated Tuesdays, and this just cements it. That’s the first thing he thinks. Before the overwhelming, all-encompassing grief, he sits in his chair opposite John’s empty one and thinks about how he will never like Tuesdays.  
  

  2. He has a private viewing of the body at the funeral home the day before the funeral. He doesn’t tell anybody else about it. He covers the body with fresh red roses and puts his wedding ring in John’s mouth to be buried with him. He caresses John’s cheek one last time, imagining the cold, lifeless skin were anything else. He plants a kiss on John’s unbreathing, unmoving lips, pressing against him for the briefest of moments. He says nothing, barely even cries. This is his final goodbye.  
  

  3. The next day, he refuses to go to the funeral. He can’t. Physically can’t. Nobody else seems to get the hint. After the funeral ends, tons of people stream in and out of Baker Street, offering food that turns to ash in his mouth, words that may as well be garbled nothing, and comfort in the form of embraces and lingering, pitying hands on his upper arm. All he feels is the hollowness enveloping him, ever-present, ever-enduring.   
  

  4. In the final hours, he knew. The invisible clock hung over them for months, threatening and looming, but became desperate that evening. He clung to John’s neck and kissed him on every part of his face. He covered him in blankets and helped him into his best jumper, the greige one he received for Christmas last year from Mummy and Daddy. John used his last breaths to kiss him back.  
  

  5. He dreams of John for forty nights and, on the fortieth, John comes to him in his dream and places a tender kiss on both of his eyes, cheeks and, finally, his mouth. John tells him that he loved him and loves him still. He never dreams of John again after this. Within Eastern Orthodoxy, it is believed that the soul of the person who has passed remains wandering on Earth for forty days before ascension, like their Saviour. He mourns harder after that day, feeling as though something has been ripped from his very soul.  
  

  6. He keeps John’s cologne like a sacred vessel. Issey Miyake L’Eau D’Issey Pour Homme. He first bought it for John years earlier after a lot of research and sampling, on their anniversary. John used it exclusively from then on. He opens it on days when he feels he absolutely can’t stand not to anymore. One day, he drops it and it splashes to the ground, breaking the oval-shaped bottle and splattering the liquid all over the bathroom floor. Just like that, it’s all gone. Even though he knows, _he knows,_ he could run down to Boots and buy a new bottle, he weeps on the floor for a solid four hours.  
  

  7. He never says his name, not ever. It’s almost like a curse or like a prayer - he can’t decide which. When other people say it, he visibly flinches, so they stop saying it around him, too. Seventeen months later, he wakes with a start, sits up in his bed and says _John_. After that, he can’t stop saying it, even to himself. (It’s definitely a prayer.)  
  

  8. He thinks he sees him once, on the street. His heart feels as though it literally stops in his chest, his breathing gone ragged and throat constricting. Eventually, the person turns around and life goes on, the bustling city continuing about their day all around him. He stands in the centre of it, frozen for a full three and a half minutes, after which time, he abandons his grocery list, goes home and throws up.  
  

  9. Though his arms itch, ache, _plead_ , he doesn’t give in. He promised. The only two promises he made before John was gone: that he wouldn’t turn to the needle and that he wouldn’t die. He intends to keep the former, he isn’t sure how he’s expected to observe the latter.  
  

  10. Two years and six months later, he meets someone new — just a friend, there could never be anything more ever, ever, ever — and he feels the guilt strangling his very organs when they laugh together one day. After that, he avoids him altogether, choosing to remain solitary. Fortunately or unfortunately, his new friend is clever and he understands things without being told about them — very much like John did. All he says is, _I’m not replacing him, you know. Nobody could do that. I see it._ It’s good enough. For now, it’s good enough.  
  

  11. He makes another friend two years after that, but this one isn’t as clever. This one tries to kiss him. He has never felt more enraged in all his years. He wants to scrub his lips with acid because they belong only to John, no matter that John isn’t here anymore and he is. They still, always, only belong to John.  
  

  12. Before he was gone, John tried to break it off. He thought it would be easier that way. He had seen right through it, right away, as with most things people do, and had refused him. There is no way, in no world, where they would end for any reason other than death.  
  

  13. John had tried to pry a third promise from him: to move on in time. He asked him in many ways, over many occasions. This, he had refused without even entertaining.  
  

  14. He remembers the day that John first told him that he loved him. He cherishes it. He writes it down in a notebook and tears out all the other pages. He meditates over it, a mantra to drown out all the pain. The memory never dulls, never fades. Like his love, it seems only to grow stronger.  
  

  15. Seven years after John dies, he follows. He keeps his promise. His last thought before dying: _John._  
  

  16. They meet again. John smiles. _I’ve been waiting for you_. He smiles back, all uneven breath and dewy-eyed blinks. _You have no idea._  
  




 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! [Follow me on tumblr for more updates.](http://xtiin.tumblr.com)


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